


Summoning Succubus

by Elabeth



Category: Neverwinter Nights
Genre: Ammon Jerro's Haven, F/F, F/M, Scene Expansion, Succubus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 18:22:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4930258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elabeth/pseuds/Elabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This started out as trying to fill in one of the gaps in Bishop's story - why wasn't he attracted to the Succubus in Ammon Jerro's Haven?  In the end, there are no answers about Bishop (he's a little more swayed though).  The female Knight Captain, however...  Not completely unaffected by the Succubus' powers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summoning Succubus

The room contained yet another summoning circle, in the centre of which stood a female demon, roughly human in appearance save for a tail that swished back and forth in amusement and a pair of large pale wings. She wore a scrap of red silk, barely covering her voluptuous figure. Her face was heavy with make-up, causing her to look cheap; but despite this the woman was beautiful. Awen felt her breath being taken away by the creamy smooth skin, the short flaming hair and the daring apparel. A flicker of jealousy passed through the human sorceress as she wished she could wear but a scrap and look so good – practically edible.

“Well done!” the Succubus called out. “You have earned an audience with me.” 

Awen opened her mouth to speak, undoubtedly a compliment on the beauty of the demon, the sheer tempting nature of the creature. But she was cut off by the familiar nasal tones of her favourite elf. 

“You may wish to stand back... if this is truly a succubus, no one is better equipped to deal with her charms than I.” Sand took a step forward out of the group, moving a little in front of Awen. His chest was puffed out and his hand rose to smooth back his hair. 

Awen fought a giggle. The spell the succubus had over her was broken... mostly. She took a deep, calming breath and moved forward, gently moving the wizard back. 

“Who are you?” Awen demanded; she tried to ignore the way her voice seemed far too soft and feminine for the situation – she was practically simpering. It was quite embarrassing really. 

The succubus turned her full focus onto the sorceress. “I am Blooden, mistress of the Deep Crest, the breeding grounds of the Abyss.”

Awen quickly tried to think through all of the demons she had ever heard of, the name was not ringing any bells. Perhaps if Grobnar or Aldenon were here one of them would be able to supply some background of the beautiful temptress before them. 

“No recognition? You don’t seem to have heard of me before. That is strange.” 

“I don’t make it a habit to know the names of demons,” Awen said, pleasing herself with how indifferent she was able to sound, given the situation. 

“Hmm, oh well, it doesn’t matter. That doesn’t entertain me... You’re a female of your species. Did you... did you bring any males?”

Awen bit her lip; she looked down at her body, soft and feminine beneath thick robes, slightly embarrassed by... She glared up angrily. No stupid succubus was going to make her feel inadequate. Especially not some shallow minded creature such as this. 

Blooden’s eyes fell on Casavir. “Oh, but wait... look at this. A male vessel, thick with virtue and doubt... so close to cracking until the guilt runs out.”

What, in all the lands, does that mean? Awen turned around to look at Casavir. Studying his intelligent blue eyes and his face aged beyond its years from too many battles.

The paladin drew his shield in front of him and gripped his warhammer firmly. “But do not come too close, ‘holy’ one... your presence is more than I can bear...”

His face wasn’t that expressive though... how could this harpy see ‘doubt’ in a face so committed to his god. Casavir was one of the surest people Awen knew. 

“... As I’m sure my presence is more than _you_ can bear. Do you come all this way for me?”

Awen noticed that the succubus was talking; making innuendo at Casavir? Like that was going to work. Casavir was the most obtuse person when it came to picking up on innuendo – it was a source of some amusement to Awen. 

“It was not my choice to come here, succubus. As for your charms... they’re wasted on me.” Casavir took a step away from the demon, seemingly for the sole purpose of demonstrating that he could; that he was indifferent to the succubus’ charms.

Which was just pain annoying; Awen let out a little huff. Casavir, a man, could so easily rebuff the charms of this evil temptress when she, a woman, had to fight to think straight in the presence of such beauty. Still, at least it looked like the stupid demon wouldn’t get what she wanted from Casavir.

The succubus seemed to have the same thought. She turned her gaze to the rest of the group. Awen made to look around the group as well, stopping at Sand’s face and almost laughing out loud at the ridiculous face he was making. He seemed to be trying to show his intelligence through expression and pose; one hand placed on his chin, a slight ‘contemplative’ pout to his lips, and eyes narrowed in ‘deep thought.’ It looked so unnatural on the normally self-respecting elf.

“Oh my, what have we here?” The succubus’ silky tones broke through Awen’s amusement. She refocused her attention on the demon, wondering what Blooden had found so appealing in Sand’s display.

“A soul so much like a dagger that barely keeps itself in its sheath... What does that dagger seek, I wonder?”

Not Sand then. Awen turned to look at the group’s tracker. A dagger was a particularly good description for the man; his personality certainly was like a weapon barely kept in its shea- Oh! A furious blush flamed over Awen’s face as she recognised the innuendo in _that_ statement. An image of Bishop’s ‘dagger’ refused to leave her mind.

“I’ve already got my share of demons, witch. Taunt and tempt all you want, but your little act bores me.” Bishop’s voice was strong and he seemed to be convinced by what he said, but Awen noticed a slight thickness to the words that wasn’t normally there, and his eyes seemed darker than usual. Resisting the succubus must be taking more effort for the ranger than it had for Casavir.

Blooden smiled, making every breath but Casavir’s catch. “Oh, if this form displeases you, perhaps taking the form of your noble leader would stir that heart of yours.”

More images flooded into Awen’s mind, unreined and unbidden. Bishop’s strong muscled body over hers, both free of clothes, both lit in the warm glow of a campfire that turned their skin golden. His lips ravaging her mouth as his hands handled her with the same care she’d seen him take with his bow.

“Be silent!” Casavir growled loudly. “I will not abide you mocking our leader!”

“Huh?” Awen tilted her head to the side, events catching up with her. “Hey!” She glared angrily at the succubus.

A tinkling laugh echoed through the room, the succubus’ scarlet lips spread wide in a gleeful smile. “Oh my, you have such _passion_. Aahhhh... oh, you are wasted in your temple’s walls, paladin.... such a shame. But my question wasn’t directed at you, as you have made it clear you do not desire my advances. So what do _you_ say, ranger? Would your heart beat faster were it the face of your leader that I took?”

“If you think that’ll get a rise out of me, you’re wrong,” Bishop spat at the succubus.

Awen’s eyes, of their own will, fell to the front of Bishop’s thick leather armour, checking for any ‘rise’ in the ranger. She shook her head to clear her thoughts as she realised what she was doing, noticing that Bishop had caught her looking.

Face turning bright crimson, Awen resolutely glared the succubus in the eye, pointedly not looking at Bishop.

“Such restrained anger. You are wasted on the open road, scout... when you could be keeping a woman’s bed warm.” Blooden smiled seductively once more at the ranger.

Suppressing the urge to agree, Awen stepped forward right up to the edge of the summoning circle which trapped the demon.

“We’re not here to amuse you.” Awen glowered at the succubus. She hated every part of the stupid cream skinned, red-haired, scantily clad wench.

“Oh well,” the succubus sighed. “You had such potential. Servants! Come, my servants! Entertain me!”

The portal in the corner of the room flared to life, from it stepped two succubi – not as beautiful as Blooden, but still close enough that Awen was able to put all her rage at the demon into attacking them.

As spells and arrows began to fly Blooden clapped her hands excitedly, seeming to enjoy the spectacle of the fight. It was over quickly, the two creatures offering little challenge to the adventurers.

“Oh yes. That was so exciting. Nearly as enthralling as when Koraboros sends his hellhounds raiding.” Blooden sighed, her exquisite features falling into a sad frown. Awen had to fight the urge to feel sorry for the demon. “I have no idea why Koraboros stopped attacking me. I would ask him myself, but I’m trapped in this circle, and his hounds kill my messengers on sight...”

“Not my problem.” Awen turned her nose up into the air and stalked towards the exit. No stupid, demon wench was going to mess with her... any more than she had already.

“No, please wait!” Blooden called out. The honey sweet voice was laced with such desperation that Awen found herself unable to step through the door. Against her better judgement the sorceress turned around to face the succubus once more.

Blooden’s eyes were wide, dilated, pleading... Awen’s feet moved forward of their own volition, stopping far too close to the edge of the summoning circle for her liking.

“What do you want me to do?” The words where difficult to hear – like Awen was listening them underwater, faint and distant; it took her a moment to realise that they had come from her own mouth.

Oh phooey, she was under the succubus’ spell once more. She shook her head, holding her nose and popping her ears. A momentary wave of dizziness washed over her as she held too long. She shook her head again to clear it.

A hand appeared at her elbow, Casavir’s soft, low, deep voice penetrated her consciousness, “Are you alright, Awen?” The words were so soft that Awen was sure only she’d been able to hear them.

“Huh?” Awen looked up at Casavir, captivated for a moment by his brilliant blue eyes. “Yeah, just fine.” She smiled goofily.

She groaned softly as she realised what she was doing. Awen placed a hand over her eyes, scrunching them tight to block the sight of absolutely everybody.

The succubus laughed in amusement. “Oh my, you are entertaining. Is my presence affecting you? Oh, you’re all flushed... I wonder how _wet_ you are.”

A crimson flush of embarrassment flooded over Awen’s cheeks. Aw, why did the succubus have to mention _that_? Now the sorceress was all too aware of her own body acting in treacherous ways.

“Casavir, smite her!” Awen glared at the beautiful demon, stamping her foot on the ground, bawling her hands into fists and pouting. She cast her eyes pleadingly at the paladin.

In other circumstances she might have laughed at the look on Casavir’s face, as it was Awen just felt hurt and further embarrassed. The paladin’s face was a mix of mirth and faint horror.

“Oh, for the love of- Casavir, smite her!” Awen stamped again. “And stop looking at me like that!”

“Awen,” Casavir gently gripped her elbow and steered her to the edge of the room, away from the hearing of the demon.

“What?” the sorceress snapped angrily. She immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry, it’s just that _harpy_ makes me so mad.”

“Quite understandable,” Casavir nodded, he glared across at the evil creature. “No, Sand!” He scurried over to the wizard, pulling him back before the elf could step into the circle.

“Unhand me at once.” Sand struggled against Casavir as the paladin pulled him back to where Awen waited. “I am quite capable of handling this fine woman.”

Casavir ignored the elf. “I don’t like this. Dealing with their kind always carries a price; but we still need this demon’s assistance to open the portal to save Shandra.”

“I said unhand me, or I shall pluck those ridiculous eyebrows from your face,” Sand threatened. The wizard wriggled around in Casavir’s grip trying to pull his robes free without ripping the expensive fabric.

Awen sighed, “I don’t really want to...”

“It is unfortunate that Blooden remains the only creature within this haven who will help us and has not already done so. But it is her help that we must seek if we are to save Shandra and Neverwinter.”

“You are right, of course.” Awen hung her head in defeat, before looking up defiantly. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Casavir smiled. “Of course not.”

They wandered back over to Blooden, the succubus’ face lighting up at their approach – Awen struggled to keep the answering smile off her face.

“Oh marvellous, you have decided to help me!” Blooden clapped her hands together in glee.

With an effort, Awen dredged up the bitterest voice she could manage. “What do you want me to so?” Drat. She sounded all simpering again.

Blooden’s smile made the sorceress want to punch her. “Why don’t you go see Koraboros and convince him to send another pack of his hounds against me?”

“I can’t say that I like this idea.” Awen frowned.

“Of course you do. It’s a wonderful idea. You entertain me, and I help get you into that laboratory you’re so concerned about.”

As they turned to leave, Casavir once more caught Awen’s ear. “Remember to be on your guard, there are greater matters at stake.”

“Hurry along, now. I’ll make sure my minions are ready by the time you return,” Blooden called cheerfully.

***

It didn’t take long for the group to retrace their steps back to Koraboros. The large pit fiend eyed the companions with suspicion. “Our business is done, mortal. What else do you think you can obtain from me?”

Awen took a deep breath, grateful that her head was finally clear. “Blooden wants you to send a pack of your hellhounds to attack her.”

“Does she, now. Her plot to weaken and humiliate me couldn’t be more transparent.”

“I don’t think that’s the case, I think she just seriously wants you to attack for the pure entertainment value.”

The fiend’s expression turned incredulous. “What makes you think I could commit my forces to a raid on Blooden with the threat of Zaxis around the other corner?”

“Because with me leading the attack those succubi have no chance.” A wicked smile spread across Awen’s lips.

Koraboros returned the smile. “Very well. I will provide you a portion of my forces for this attack. Lead them to victory.” He turned to the portal. “Come forth, my pets! You have succubi flesh to feed on.” He turned back to Awen and her companions. “Don’t underestimate Blooden. She is treacherous.”

“Don’t underestimate me,” Awen replied.

***

The battle with the succubi was once more swift, the hellhounds providing an edge that the group really didn’t need. The demons went down before a single injury could be sustained by anyone else.

Awen smiled, hoping her face didn’t look too sadistic. If the gleeful face of Blooden was anything to go by, then it probably didn’t.

“You’ve made me so very happy.” The succubus was bouncing up and down gently on the spot. All eyes but Casavir’s travelled to her unrestrained breasts beneath the thin layer of red cloth.

Forcing herself to look up, Awen managed to respond with an acceptable level of sarcasm. “I’m _so_ glad to hear that.”

The demon frowned at the sorceress. “I am not normally one to honour non-binding contracts – or any contracts, really – but since you have so entertained me, I am feeling generous.”

“So you’re going to open the portal now?” Awen asked, finally they would be able to get away from this vicious wench.

“Oh, not yet.” A slow smile slid over the succubus’ face. “You are far too entertaining for me to let you go so quickly.”

A myriad of insults and curses swarmed through Awen’s mind – phrases that would surely make even the sailors at the Docks pause and stare. She restrained herself from actually saying them, but only with considerable effort.

“But, because you have done so well for me I shall ask just one more thing of you,” Blooden flounced sultrily to the edge of the circle.

Awen’s mind once more decided to linger on the creamy smoothness of the demon’s thighs, the prehensile tail (the possibilities involved therein,) and how every move the demon made was in some way arousing...

“I want that one,” Blooden pointed her finger at Bishop. “You will give him to me.”

The request permeated the sorceress’ thoughts, snapping them back to what was relevant.

“No!” Awen said firmly, hearing Bishop give his own refusal much more verbosely from behind her.

The sorceress felt her hand heat up, itching to cast this whore into a fiery inferno; to wrap her flesh in flames. She hoped that Blooden was powerful enough to last – wouldn’t want it over too quick. Something stayed her hand though... 

Blooden seemed to have turned up her succubus ‘charm,’ and Awen found it difficult to breath. Who needs air? The beauty of the picture of female perfection before them should be enough to sustain anybody.

“You’d give me anything I want, wouldn’t you?” Blooden cooed. Her voice was like music, light tinkly bells, the sound of gently tapped crystal; beautiful, delicate, charming. The sound flooded Awen’s senses and she barely even registered her own nod of agreement.

“I want the scout,” Blooden continued in the same voice. “You will give him to me.”

Awen’s head nodded up and down slowly – agree, just agree with anything this beauty wants. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that Bishop – under the same charms – was walking towards the circle. 

He looked puzzled. Which shouldn’t have been quite as ridiculously attractive as it was. Awen smiled dopily. A couple of steps and she stood in front of the ranger, blocking him from wherever he’d been headed. Awen reached out, cupped Bishop’s cheek in her palm, and pulled him down into a kiss.

Something within the sorceress sparked and her initially slow, sensuous kiss exploded in heat. She grasped at Bishop, pulling him closer, her arms wrapping around him, clutching at him. She could feel him respond in kind, his hands seemingly everywhere on her back and sides as his tongue plundered her mouth.

After both an eternity and a second she felt Bishop wrenched away from her. It took Awen a moment to regain her senses. Casavir stood over Bishop, who’d somehow ended up on the ground. The succubus was clapping happily from her circle, laughing gleefully. Bishop looked... stunned, shocked, smug, livid?

She’d just kissed Bishop. She’d just kissed him like there was nothing else in all of the Realms that she would rather do. She wanted nothing more than to do it again. She’d just kissed Bishop and forgotten everything else. Like Casavir and Sand standing right there, watching – watching her kiss Bishop.

Awen felt her face heat up. She looked away from Bishop and tried to focus her thoughts on anything but the tingling sensation his lips had left on hers, anything but the embarrassment.

Blooden.

The evil, vial succubus was the source of all these problems and confusion. Ooooh, that wench was going to pay.

Hands balled into fists, Awen turned around to face the _creature_. “You are going to open that portal. You are going to open that portal _right now_. Or I swear I will find a way to make your life so boring you’ll wish you had a bucket of sand so you could count the grains to pass the time.”

The demon bounced up and down clapping her hands gleefully. “Oh, you all are such fun!”

“Open the portal.” Awen’s voice was quiet and menacing.

“I still want the scout,” Blooden flicked her gaze back to Bishop. “That kiss looked like something incredible, and I want to taste him.”

Bishop growled, getting to his feet. “If you think I’ll...”

The words were cut short as Awen shot a jet of flame at Blooden, forcing the succubus back against the outer edge of her summoning circle.

The smile finally left Blooden’s face as she stood, patting at the burning fragments of what remained of her silk outfit. “Oh, very well,” she huffed. “Seeing as I’m feeling generous.”

The sorceress’ hands itched. Oh, one more spell won’t hurt her... much.

Blooden cast a spell on the portal, her powers combing with those of the other demons and devils. The portal finally sprang to life. Without another word Awen moved quickly to it, knowing her companions were following her.

“You’re going to die in there, you know,” Blooden called out. “A pity I won’t be able to watch.” 

***

“So what does the great Captain of Crossroad Keep want with her humble tracker? Something you want hunted down, milady, or some forsaken path scouted?”

Awen had been back at the Keep – her Keep, she would have to get used to that – barely five minutes when Bishop had tracked her down to verbalize his distaste for the sorceress’ new title. 

Well, she’d been dragged off to Castle Never by Sir “perfect-hair” Nevalle, had to fight undead, crawled through secret tunnels (which were not clean) and battled against flying swords because she didn’t know one little itty bit of Neverwinter trivia. So if people were going to say whatever they wanted to her, then she was going to say whatever she wanted back. 

She’d also had a lot of time to think of the journey both to and from Neverwinter. So she responded to the ranger’s snarking in what she felt an appropriate manner. 

“Actually, Bishop, I can think of a few things.” Awen smiled. “If you’ll just follow me to my bed chamber...”


End file.
